Dear Reagan,
Two years. Two years since we met face to face. Two years since I first held you in my arms. Two years since I heard that first cry. Two years since my world became your world. Two years since you made me a mother.
On your second birthday, I can’t help but look back. A slideshow runs through my mind. One that I replay over and over again.
Click. It starts that first squeeze of my finger. I know they say it is a reflex, but to me it was a physical manifestation of the heaviness of this new love. How can something so small be so mighty?
Click. I see you at 3 weeks old. Looking up at my with big eyes at 3 a.m., double swaddled, bouncing, with the water running, in the dark. Me, looking down at you exhausted, tired, spent. Barely hanging on, wondering what in the world I got myself into.
Click. Another 3 weeks go by and you smile for the first time. A sight that erases all those feelings of fear and worry, if only for a moment. I needed that smile. It fuels me, it keeps me afloat in the treading water marathon that is the newborn stage.
Click. You’re sitting up in flannel Christmas pajamas. You are surrounded by family, love, and awe as you grab at the wrapping paper of your very first Christmas presents. From here on out, I know that the holidays will never the same. Christmas through the eyes of a child, I don’t know that it gets more magical than that.
Click. You’re walking. Toppling steps and cheers abound. You don’t reach for my fingers to hold onto anymore. You move without assistance. A new independence that I so desperately crave for you, but also fear. My instincts to protect you from falling, from getting hurt struggle against your desire to explore this new world. One that you tackle with wonder.
Click. Mommy. You call me Mommy. My heart skips a beat.
Click. It’s July 9, 2014. We made it one whole year. I look at you illuminated by the glow of a lone candle. You are just so beautiful, so full of life and wonder. I don’t know how anything could top this past year. I don’t know how I could possibly love you more, how it could possibly get any better than this.
Click. I drop you off at Mother’s Day Out for the first time. You cry, actually scream, with arms outstretched to me. Your teacher tells me to go (quickly), that you will be fine as soon as I am gone. I follow instructions, putting my sunglasses on as soon as I exit your room. Tears stream down my face. I wait at a coffee shop across the street and pick you up two hours early. You run to me and engulf me in a hug.
Click. I am 8 months pregnant with your brother. We are standing on the San Clemente Pier in California, our last trip as a family of three. You run and chase birds as the sun sets.
Click. My due date is tomorrow. I cry all day, soaking up every second of having you as my one and only.
Click. You meet your brother for the first time. You instinctively kiss him. My heart has never been so full.
Click. Christmas morning. Pure magic. You don’t get it totally, but you get it enough. You run from gift to gift, family member to family member in your red and white striped pajamas. All eyes are on you. You laugh. You smile. You light up the room.
Click. Stomach bug. We isolate your brother and you lay on me, no movement except for the sound of your inhale and exhale. I hate that you are sick, but love holding you. These days you are always on the run, and I cherish having time to study your soft face, stroke your blond hair, and rock you to sleep. You will always be my baby.
Click. Aruba. 24/7 sun, sand, ocean, and pool. You are in heaven. We joke that you were born for beach living and contemplate becoming perma-vacationers.
Click. You make your brother laugh more than anyone else. He has a special smile reserved only for you. He looks up to you. And, I can tell you will forever protect him. The bond between you two grows daily. You are best friends.
Click. Who is this little girl? She runs freely, without a care in the world. She is brave, fearless. She brings sunshine to every room she enters. She loves deeply and is loved beyond measure. Her beauty on the outside is only rivaled by her beauty on the inside. The sound of her laughter is the sweetest music. Her eyes are the deepest blue and filled with wonder, imagination, and magic.
While I can’t help but look back, I also look forward.
I look forward to watching you grow, to being your biggest cheerleader as you take on the world.
You my dear, Reagan, can do anything. You can be anything. You were made for greatness. I will always be on your team. I will always love you. I will always be there for you.
Happy 2nd Birthday.
All my love,
Mom
Van Plus Fam 